The Legend of Spyro: The New Era
by Azzuri13
Summary: With Malefor defeated, the dragon realms can finally be at peace. Dragons will shortly return to Warfang after years of exile. However how will they react to Spyro and Cynder, and to the loss of a very much respected and loved fire guardian?
1. Chapter 1

**The New Era**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters; all rights go to their respective owners. **

**Chapter 1**

The gentle morning breeze ruffled through Terrador's thoroughly coated lime scales as he stood on the balcony, overlooking the horizon. The sun's rays reflected in his battle hardened eyes, slowly warming up his ageing body and casting a heavenly sheen over the temple, awakening it from its deep slumber.

However, The Earth Guardian silently wished that there was someone else on the balcony with him. Another brave warrior who paid the ultimate price in the Dark Masters attempts to crush and conquer the free peoples of this world.

Terrador gave a deep sigh. He couldn't forget the rushed conversation between him and Ignitus, the last time he ever saw him. He could tell Ignitus was up to something, but he never even considered the fact that he would sacrifice himself.

_I thought he would have been strong enough to survive_, Terrador thought boldly. The Guardians were revered as some of the strongest and bravest dragons throughout the realms and although his heart begrudgingly accepted the dreadful news upon the return of Spyro and Cynder, doubts still crept into his ancient mind that his long time friend and ally had actually departed.

However before his doubts had any more time to fester within the confines of his brain, the peace and serenity of the morning were broken all too soon by the disturbance of his colleague.

"Morning Terrador", a voice came from behind him.

Terrador didn't bother turning around. He knew the familiar tone of Cyril's cultured voice all too well. When the Ice Guardian drew level with him only then did he react.

"Cyril", Terrador replied, nodding in his direction.

For a few fleeting moments they remained muted, calmly embracing the delicious sounds and scented smells of nature that surrounded them in Avalar. The swamp that surrounded the temple was filled with activity as the inhabitants started awakening and starting the cycle of another day. The Silver River presented a calm and eloquent flow and even the large tree-like mushrooms seemed allot less ugly in the splendid luminosity of the sun.

"I think I can safely say Terrador that I have never seen a morning as glorious as this in a very long time", Cyril said with vigorous joy.

Terrador smiled faintly in response. "Yes. When you are at war you can easily get sidetracked, and beautiful sites like these pass over you.

"And thanks to our young warriors, we are now able to enjoy them in peace and seclusion", Cyril added.

"Aye, they have battled so hard to get to this point. Those two have overcome horrendous obstacles and challenges that no dragon their age should ever have to face. But now with that accursed Dark Master banished and the world rebuilt, they can finally have some well deserved rest and recuperation!" Terrador exclaimed.

Cyril nodded in agreement. "Yes, Quite. By the way, when were you thinking of informing them of the other dra-"

"Soon Cyril, Soon", Terrador interrupted.

"Well have you agreed with Hunter when it would be advisable to get in contact?

Terrador shook his head. "Not yet, I still have my doubts as to whether all the enemies that served the Dark Master have been killed. We need to make sure that there are none of them lurking in the confines of Avalar before I relay any messages. Therefore we will scour the land and surrounding shoreline for any traces of Malefor's forces. Once we are sure that there is no chance of a counter attack, only then will I get in contact with the Exiles.

"I see!" said Cyril, his voice stepped in excitement. "And when were you thinking of arranging this little hunting party?"

Terrador quietly brooded over this question. He could tell by Cyril's joyous expression and tone that he was anxious to get everything in motion and see his loved ones as soon as possible. Terrador didn't blame the Ice Guardian, as he too was thinking the exact same thing. The Exiles have been away for too long, however the only thing that stopped him from saying that they should set out immediately were Spyro and Cynder. They had only recently returned from facing Malefor, not to mention all the other contingents of Apes, Grublins and Wyverns that they've fought recently. Their bodies were racked with exhaustion; they needed a few days at least.

"I think we should give our two young dragons a break before we begin any plan of action", Terrador said at last.

"But Terrador, surely-", Cyril began.

"I know Cyril!" Terrador interrupted. "I'm as restless as you are to get in contact, but Spyro and Cynder have put much on the line for us, far too much. If it wasn't for them, we wouldn't be talking right now. They are the reason that we are now a free race, a race that can now breathe clean air instead of the stink of corruption and death that has plagued these lands for so long."

Cyril dropped his icy blue head in response, ashamed of himself. "I am aware of what Spyro and Cynder have done for us and am extremely grateful for their gallantry Terrador. But now that the threat of war has all but ceased, I no longer have anything to deter my mind from it. The absence of my friends and family now fills me, and I apologise for that."

Terrador calmly placed one of his muscular forepaws on his colleague's shoulder. "There is nothing to apologise for my friend. It is I who should be doing the apologising, it was wrong of me to snap at you. I've just been such a cantankerous lark lately that I've found it hard to keep myself calm and focused."

Cyril nodded in acceptance, and Terrador swiftly removed his paw upon seeing that his friend had perked up. They both looked out into the distance and picked out the dragon city of Warfang, its many buildings and towers casting a bold and defiant outlook to the surrounding forests that encapsulated it. Despite all the attacks and turmoil that Warfang had been subjected to throughout the war, it now stood not only as a symbol of the friendship between the moles and the dragons, but also as an emblem of defiance and strength. This proved that the dragon race, with the aid of other creatures within Avalar, was still a proud and majestic race, and this warmed the hearts of the guardians.

They both breathed deeply, relishing in the haven of this thought, before speaking again.

"I guess the repair work is progressing well?" Terrador inquired.

"I'm sure it is, the moles were very eager to begin construction as soon as the war concluded. Ignitus put Mason in charge of the city in our absence, and I think it should stay that way until the other dragons return."

"Agreed", Terrador said with a slight hint of sadness in his voice.

This time it was Cyril's turn to place one of his forepaws upon the veteran earth guardian.

"I know you miss him Terrador. We all do. But you mustn't fret, for when our race has returned and normality resumed we can pay homage to the ones who lost their lives to defend and protect the ones they loved."

Terrador knew Cyril was right; he couldn't just mope about thinking of what might have been or what he could have done. He had to be strong, for his friends and for his race. With Cyril's warm and comforting words came a rare, heart warming smile that spread across his face, something that he hadn't done for years.

"Thank you Cyril", he said happily. "You're right, Ignitus wouldn't want any of us moping, he would want us to be savouring the victory and being happy and proud. I'll not brood on it anymore, only when the time is appropriate will I then open my mind to the memory of my old fiery friend."

Cyril removed his paw, and the crease of a smile also spread across his sky blue features.

"I am glad. Now, let's go find our electric tongued friend Volteer and tell him of our intentions. The last time I saw him, he was practicing in the training-"

Suddenly they both heard a high pitched, distorted sound directly from behind them, causing both of the guardians to spin around in alarm.

"What was that?" Terrador demanded, on his guard and ready to receive any sort of threat.

The same sound emanated from behind them yet again, causing Terrador to look around in confusion. He knew that sound came from within the temple, and was about to investigate when Cyril spoke up.

"Calm yourself Terrador, I am assuming that that was Volteer. These days when he uses that element of his, he very rarely gets the precise quantity that he desires.

With this news the earth guardian relaxed his tense muscles, and then began to smile once again.

"I see. Come on then", Terrador chuckled. "Let's go and see how far he has progressed with those ape dummies. Let's hope they don't push our old companion too far, otherwise he could level the whole temple."

The guardians laughed to each other as they walked back from the balcony to check on their companion, clearly enjoying the radiance of the morning weather and looking forward to a day of peace and prosperity in Avalar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters; all rights go to their respective owners.**

**Chapter 2**

Weak rays of light penetrated the temple's interior. Each individual room was basked in this glorious ethereal glow. The inhabitants that lay in the confines of the swamp almost seemed to relay their various noises together, in gratefulness to a gorgeous new day.

But all of this natural beauty and apparent enthusiasm of the wildlife totally slipped past our two young dragons as they slept on in the comfort of their soft plush bed; it was a welcome break, to know that they can finally rest peacefully and escape from all the terror they had been subjected to throughout their young lives; they had been born in a time of war and had to bear the tribulations of battle, wounding and killing the relentless hordes that plagued these lands for so long; they had grown up way too fast, but now they had the chance to settle down and just be normal teenage dragons.

Cynder was the first one to stir from her natural sleep. Her head moved slightly on the soft pillow before her dark eyelids retracted to reveal two glowing emerald orbs. She yawned, revealing sets of sharp and glittering fangs that lay in the confines of her mouth. She rubbed her eyes, removing the sleep that had formed in the corners, and then looked across to where Spyro lay. His head was the only part of him that the covers didn't conceal; he seemed so tranquil in this state, and yet his appearance became powerful and majestic as the incoming sunlight poured into the room, covering him with a quilt of luminosity. Each scale that was visible to her lay elegantly bathed in a pool of light, his golden horns becoming prongs of ethereal divinity. She just couldn't stop staring at him in wonder.

She carefully moved one of her forepaws underneath the covers and placed her ivory claws upon his stomach and caressed it. She felt his chest rising and falling in a rhythmic fashion; his musky, masculine scent filling her tender nostrils. She moved even closer to his sleeping form until his face completely filled her vision, ignoring the glare of the morning sun. She removed her paw from his stomach and brought it up to where his head resided. She began to lightly touch his cheek, causing him to twitch in response.

_I will never regret my decision, _she thought to herself. She reminded herself of the time when they defeated Malefor at the heart of the world just a few days ago; rock was splitting apart and all she could see was flames engulfing everything. She apologised for betraying his kindness and trust by releasing the Dark Master back at the Well of Souls all those years ago. She then tried to persuade Spyro to leave with her, but he was convinced he was meant to save the world and bring hope for the future.

She was amazed, even after all the fighting they had been put through he still battled on. It was then that her feelings for Spyro changed; she not only respected him as an ally and a friend, but now felt great love and adoration for him and realised that she wanted to be with him. Adrenaline was still pumping through her body, her heart thumping in her chest like a bongo drum; she felt she had to admit her feelings to him. So while Spyro's form turned from divine purple to a majestic sheen of white, she spoke in a seductive whisper:

"I love you," She said with glee and happiness in her voice. Her face was now a few centimetres away from his battle hardened face. She closed her eyes, leaned in and kissed him on his dark purple lips.

The kiss lasted only for a few moments, but in this brief period Cynder experienced a degree of happiness and euphoria within herself that she never thought could be felt; she had friends to look out for her, a lover to be there for her and she was prancing down a very promising road that was her future.

She removed her feminine lips from his maw and opened her eyes. He didn't show any signs of consciousness as yet, although for a fleeting second she swore a smile crept across his face. She giggled at his response to her gesture, and continued to feel his cheek with her light touch.

"I feel so happy," she said to herself. "If someone told me that I would die shortly, I wouldn't even shed a tear."

"Oh I'm sure that won't be for a long time yet."

The words escaped his mouth a few seconds before he opened his sparkling amethyst eyes, revealing an ebony dragoness that was not the least bit surprised he was awake.

"And how long have you been awake?" She quizzed, removing her claw from his face.

"Since you started to rub my stomach; it felt very nice," he responded heartily.

"I'm sure it did," she laughed.

They then sat up in bed, unfurled their sets of wings and stretched out their bodies to their full length under the covers, trying to relieve the fatigue that plagued their muscles.

"Ahh that feels better," he groaned.

"Yes," Cynder agreed. "Several days ago, I could feel nothing but ache."

"Me too, but I think we'll need a couple more days before we're back to full fitness," Spyro suggested.

"Well that suites me just fine," she said, clearly gratified.

Then suddenly Cynder, using her slim and agile body, managed to roll from her side of the bed to the other, and managed to position herself on top of the purple dragon with her draconic grace, taking him completely by surprise.

"That means we have an excuse to stay in bed," she continued.

They both smirked at each other; Cynder had him completely pinned down, he couldn't move his upper body at all. Seductively he entwined his tail with hers, his mauve scales contrasting with her midnight black ones. Her intoxicating scent filled his nostrils; she smelt of fresh grass and wild flowers in summer time, reminding him of his temporary stay in Tall Plains all those years ago.

However the sudden nostalgia also brought back memories of his departed fiery friend. He grimaced, and Cynder noticed this in his features.

"Am I hurting you?" she asked, worry in her voice.

"No, no it's... it's not you. I'm just... thinking of Ignitus."

"Oh... right."

Sensing the change of mood, she slowly unwound her tail from his and casually slid of his muscular stomach and lay beside him. Cynder knew that he was still hurting inside from what had happened recently, they all were. Ignitus had been like a father to him, guiding him in mastering the fire element and teaching him what it means to be a purple dragon of legend.

She laid her head beside his in the gleaming sunlight and nuzzled his face that was steeped in melancholy, attempting to comfort him.

"Are you okay?" she queried.

Spyro exhaled sharply, a single tear escaping from his grief stricken eyes which slowly crawled down his face.

"I... miss him Cyn," he sobbed. "I miss him so much."

"I know you do. He was brave and courageous; he died fighting for the ones he loved and for the freedom of the realms."

"He also cared for me and brought me up; and now that he has departed I... I just feel like a part of me has gone with him."

She delicately wiped off the descending tear and leaving only its trail on his smooth face. She then continued to nuzzle him.

"He will never be gone Spyro," she continued. "Not as long as people remember him for who he was and what he stood up for."

After a few moments her gentle and truthful words managed to coax him out of his brief spell of depression. She was right; this was no time for moping about and feeling sad, wishing things had turned out differently. He had to carry on and live life to the full. Besides he still had the guardians and Cynder for company, and the rest of his life ahead of him. Although Ignitus was dead and gone, he would never forget him as long as he lived. His sad expression transformed into a beaming smile. This was why he loved her so much; she could always brighten up his day when he was in the darkest mood.

"You're right, Cyn."

She remained passive while he wrapped his golden wings around her slender neck and pulled her into a long, embracing hug.

"Thanks for being so supportive, and I'm sorry for being a right misery guts."

When he unfurled his wings and met her gaze, her expression was much more relaxed now that his mood swing had passed and a sweet smile adorned her features.

"That's all right, just so long as you're my misery guts," she joked.

"And mine," an unknown voice sounded from the window.

They both looked out to where the voice resounded, not knowing quite what to feel when they realised who it was.

"Hello Sparx," they said in unison.

The dragonfly floated into their room in a casual fashion; the yellow glow of his body cast faint spots of light on the bricks that resided in the wall, and the low resonating hum of his wings reached their ears as he talked.

"So what's been happening since I've been gone?" he asked boisterously.

"Nothing much," Spyro replied. "We've just been resting since we got back. How are mum and...your parents?"

"Oh fine, they're just glad to return home. They had to travel far away from the swamp when Malefor showed his big ugly face and turned it into a fiery wasteland. But now thanks to you guys they get to live in peace once again. They would have liked to come along and see you, but mum's got another baby on the way."

"Oh that's nice, I wonder if it will be as annoying as you are Sparx," Cynder said, trying to get a rise out of him.

"Hmmm, not likely is it?" Sparx retorted. "You never know, it might be as ugly and evil as-"

"Alright you two, that's enough," Spyro interrupted in an attempt to put this quarrel aside.

He thought back to when Sparx specifically asked Cynder to look after him when they were about to go through the belt of fire. They seemed to put their differences aside then, and he had hoped that this would be the end of their petty squabbles.

_Some things never change, _he thought to himself.

"Will you give my congratulations to them when you see them again?"

"Yeah, sure buddy. Mind you that probably won't be for a bit; I'm planning on hanging around here for a while; kinda got to like this place now."

Although Sparx didn't see it, they both grimaced in response to this. They had hoped for some more alone time together.

"So are you two an item then?" Sparx asked.

"Yes, as it happens," Cynder said immediately, giving Spyro a few quick nips on the neck.

Both of them were expecting the cheeky dragonfly to come up with a snide remark in response to this.

"Well that's nice," he said pleasantly.

They both stared at him in utter dismay.

"What?" they both burst out.

"No joke guys, I mean it. It's nice to see a bit of romance come out of so much horror and hurt."

They both looked at each other in shock, and then turned back to their glowing friend, convinced they were in a dream.

But this illusion was broken all too soon when he locked eyes with Spyro and added: "I mean at least you won't have to go on a diet now buddy; mounting Cynder will give you a real work out I'm sure."

As they were both about to jump out of bed and smite him for the comment, a loud distortion that sounded very much like lightning discharging entered their ears.

"By the ancestors, what was that?" Spyro cried, looking around the room in rabid madness.

"The temple being attacked?" Cynder suggested.

"What again?" Sparx mused.

The two lovers leapt out of the confines of their thoroughly heated covers and raced out the door to try and discover where the sound came from, despite their bodies still aching from cramp and exhaustion, with Sparx following reluctantly behind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters; all rights go to their respective owners.**

**Chapter 3**

The rays of the morning sun blazed down upon the domed roof of the training arena as Volteer was being put through his paces. The electric guardian had resided there for most of the morning; perspiration was strewn across his body and his breathing was erratic. He had been attempting to defeat several ape dummies for the past few minutes and so far had crushed most of them, their fragile remains dispersed upon the cold stone floor.

However the scattered bodies were mainly small dojo dummies, insignificant and easy prey for Volteer. The larger dummies proved a tougher test for our old volt veteran. He was now up against three of the toughest and largest of that particular group.

_Back when I was young and vigorous, I could have defeated all of them with ease,_ he thought to himself.

As the dummies closed in upon our lemon coloured friend, he began to back away slightly from the centre of the room and edge nearer to the balcony door. This allowed for a bit of time for Volteer to regain a bit of strength.

He cursed to himself; _I don't understand why my lightning attacks were so ferocious against those smaller dummies. I didn't mean for them to be that powerful, and now that this calamity has depleted my energy I now have barely enough to face my stronger foes! _

They continued to advance towards him, clubs slack by their side, seeming to embrace the moment of calm and peace that had been placed upon their stuffed, saggy shoulders. All that could be heard within the room were their feet coming down on the hard ground and the sharp intakes of breath that emanated from his gargantuan lungs.

It was fitting then that this almost natural silence was sliced open by the rumblings of the balcony door retracting, announcing the arrival of the other guardians. They calmly stepped into the room, embracing the smell of burning dummies that entered their nostrils. Volteer didn't look round when he heard the soft sound of their sharp claws on the arena surface, his concentration on the ape dummies not lacking in the slightest.

"Volteer, do you need help?" Terrador said quite urgently after assessing the situation.

His colleague shook his head in reply, his eyes still fixed on what was in front of him. After a couple more moments of uneasiness he stopped his retreat several paces from his colleagues and bent his four butter coloured legs, ready to slay his opponents.

Suddenly the opposite door of the training arena, the one leading to the grotto, opened and in raced the two teen dragons with Sparx at the rear. All of them had confused and fatigued looks on their faces.

"What... happened?" Spyro inquired, panting hard.

"Well our esteemed colleague here still hasn't seemed to regain the skill of using the desired quantity of electricity," Cyril informed them.

"Oh... we thought the temple... was under attack," said Cynder, who was as equally worn out.

"Likewise," Terrador agreed.

"And instead we get... an aged dragon with an elemental problem... boy you guys really have suffered without me," Sparx said in his usual light hearted tone.

Whilst the conversation between the five was going on Volteer stood idle, blocking out their conversation and continued his prolonged focus on the dummies.

_I must stay focused and complete this challenge, _he thought._ If I am successful, then It will prove that I am still worthy of holding the honourable title of electric guardian. But I can't rely on my elemental attacks for the moment, I... _

Suddenly one of the big stuffed apes lunged at Volteer, club raised and intent on causing damage. At the last possible second he veered to one side and out of the way of danger; the club made a loud echo on the arena floor and bringing silence to the group's conversation.

Before that particular ape could bring his club up for a second swing, the electric veteran whipped his tail round in a savage arc, his blade cutting of half of the arm that held the club and making a deep cut in the ape's torso, spilling out vast quantities of meshed paper and cutting it almost cleanly in two.

But Volteer had almost no time to act against the next assault as the intact pair barrelled into him, forcing him onto the hard floor. He grimaced at the pain of the collision, and as they swung their huge weapons down upon his vulnerable dark blue underbelly, he managed to wrap his massive canvas wings around himself just before their attacks connected.

Their clubs connected firmly on the leathery surface, but thankfully there blows weren't strong enough to pierce through. Before they could attempt a feat like that again, he spread his wings to their full length and because they were in close combat they got hit with the full force. Their clubs flew out of their arms and they were thrown across the room and smacked against the wall with an echoing thump.

"Looks like the old boy still has a few tricks up his scale encrusted sleeve," Sparx commented.

Volteer righted himself after a few moments, and although slightly out of breath everyone saw the determination in his eyes to carry on; the ape that he almost cut in two had terrible difficulty moving, its upper half flopping from side to side like a ship in a storm and it had to be careful not to tear itself in two. However it was progressively moving towards him, having recovered the club in its other hand; the other two large dummies lay still.

The electric guardian charged towards the awkward walking dummy, attempting to finish off this spectacle as soon as he could. He kept his head low, his curved horns directed at the ape's midriff, intent on finishing the job that his razor shaped tail blade had started. However he was so intent on cutting his opponent down, he didn't register the remains of the other dummies lying scattered across the arena and consequently he tripped up and landed hard on the arena surface.

As Volteer had charged at quite a pace, his enormous draconic form collided heavily with the lumbering dummy; the resultant impact managed to cleave the dummy in two. However when the pair came to a halt the upper half of the stuffed ape managed to land on top of him, pinning him to the ground.

"Well that was a dignified assault," Spark snorted.

The group continued to watch Volteer as he huffed at the shear embarrassment of his situation. He tensed his leg muscles and tried to lift the dummy off, his mouth becoming a broad cavern of sharp white teeth in intense frustration and brutality.

After several more moments of struggling and grunting the five onlookers quickly gathered around him, seeing that he was in some need of assistance.

"Are you sure you do not require our help or support Volteer," Cyril said in an icy tone, admiring the view of his old friend in his current state.

"Yes, come on Volteer, let us help you up," Spyro said encouragingly.

Volteer breathed out sharply, his features laced with discomfort and pain. "I guess some help... aid and...sustenance is required I suppose."

"I'm guessing that's a yes," Sparx added.

With grins on their faces Spyro and Cynder quickly raced round Terrador's and Cyril's side; while Sparx just hovered in the air, the rest all got up on their hind paws and used their fore paws and claws to get good purchase on the Ape's upper half and easily roll it off their half squished friend.

"That is...most helpful," said their comrade through gritted teeth.

"Are you injured?" Cynder asked with worry in her voice.

"We'll soon see," Terrador added.

As Volteer struggled to get to his feet, everyone examined his injuries: Although he had picked up several cuts from the sharper pieces of debris on his upper legs, it was the hard fall that had done the most damage; unnatural blue and black bruising laced his bright yellow flanks.

Cyril shook his sapphire coloured head in dismay. "Volteer you mindless oaf, whatever made you think you could take on such a cohort of dummies?"

Volteer shrugged in response. "I'm not really sure, Cyril. I suppose I just wanted to prove to myself that I was still the dragon that everyone used to look up to; as a strong and powerful warrior, the electric guardian of the realms. Now I...I just think I'm too old for it now."

"You are still strong and powerful," Terrador said positively, "Otherwise you wouldn't be here right now. We have all proved that we are worthy of being guardians many times throughout the years, and don't worry about your elemental trouble my friend. Elderly dragons sometimes have that problem, and I'm sure it's nothing that you can't overcome. But I doubt that intense physical exercise is the way forward at this time so why don't you go to your quarters, bandage yourself up, and have some rest and recuperation."

Volteer nodded and slowly began to hobble towards the door that led to the grotto.

"I will offer him some support in his fragile state," Cyril informed the others and followed his departing ally.

They all remained silent and still until the door closed behind the two departing guardians. Sparx was the first to break the silence

"That guy must have blown a fuse. It looked insane taking on that many in one go, especially at his age," Sparx said looking across the arena at the remains of the destroyed dummies.

"Yes," Spyro agreed, "Mind you he did manage to accomplish it, no matter how clumsy."

"Hmmm, it is harder for us older dragons, it takes longer for us to recover our lost energy. I'm sure that you and Cynder wouldn't have too much trouble with that sort of challenge," Terrador commented happily.

Sparx gave a witty smile, "I'm sure it won't be hard for Spyro. He weighs so much he could flatten them all!"

Spyro just shook his head to Sparx's comment while Cynder rapidly changed the subject with her feminine grace.

"So do you think Volteer will be able to control his electricity properly?" she asked the earth dragon.

"I don't see why not," Terrador replied, "I think its just stress that's brought it all on. I'm sure that once he calms down and recovers from his wounds, he'll be back to normal."

Cynder smiled, happy to know that this wouldn't be a permanent problem and that she and her purple lover could sleep peacefully in future.

The earth guardian then spoke with a more serious tone in his deep, grumbling voice.

"Actually I'm glad I've got you two on your own," he said directing this at Spyro and Cynder, "because we will soon need your help with something very important."

"What is it Terrador?" Spyro asked boldly.

"We are devising a hunting party to try and find any existing traces of the enemy and eradicate it. Once we have done that we...we are going to take steps to bring the exiled dragons back to Warfang."

Spyro and Cynder stared at him in disbelief. They couldn't believe there had been dragons that had lived in these realms previously.

"You mean there have been others?" Cynder blurted out.

"Of course."

"So why have we never been told about them?" Spyro quizzed.

"And where did they go? To get away from her I presume," Sparx chided.

Cynder shot the glowing dragonfly a look as dark and foreboding as her ebony scales.

"Peace young ones," Terrador interrupted, "I will reveal all of what is going to happen and what did happen all those years ago, but first let's go somewhere more convenient."

He started to walk out of the training arena with the trio trailing intriguingly behind him, obviously excited to know what Terrador was going to tell them. They left behind the remnants of the stuffed dummies to slowly dissolve away into nothing, leaving the arena clean and tidy except for several pools of crimson liquid which stained the surface.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters; all rights go to their respective owners.**

**Chapter 4**

The thick wooden door creaked open as Terrador turned the shiny glass knob with one of his huge lime green paws; He entered his quarters with Spyro, Cynder and Sparx following at his heel, their claws making a slight click-clacking noise on the stone floor; the door shut with a soft thud as Cynder's scythe shaped tail blade connected with it firmly.

"I thought my quarters would be an adequate place to hold this conversation," Terrador said as he advanced further into the room.

They looked around the chamber, their sharp eyes taking in its features which were roughly similar to Spyro's and Cynder's accommodation: A large plush double bed against the side of the wall which was covered in pure white sheets and pillows, two small wooden desks that were on either side of the bed, a large smooth rug that lay on the ground just in front of them, two glass windows facing out onto the temple grounds, a book case overflowing with slim and large volumes of text, on the top of which a bottle of ink and a few scraps of parchment lay and finally a huge fireplace, with half singed blocks of wood lay within its confines, was placed against the opposite side of the room.

The Earth Guardian opened one of the arch shaped windows, allowing the sunlight to pour into the room and releasing a delicate breeze into its confines; the sounds of the swamp's inhabitants resonated through their ears as Terrador took a great lungful of morning air, and then turned round to face them.

"Please make your selves comfortable," he said to them, gesturing towards the rug on the floor.

Spyro and Cynder nodded and made their way over to the centre of the room, but Sparx had other ideas.

"Thanks, but I'll take the bed if you don't mind," he said cheekily and with that he whizzed over to the edge of the soft covers and became enveloped in the soft material.

"Very well," Terrador agreed, not bothering to argue with the dynamic dragonfly.

The three Dragons dropped onto their haunches and laid their smooth under bellies onto the carpet; they then crossed their forepaws in a rhythmic fashion and laid their wings and tales flat. When it was clear that they had all got comfortable, the experienced tree green dragon began his enchanting tale.

"I'm sure I don't need to go into detail about the last few years of the War, after all you have experienced them yourselves. So I will go back as far as your births Cynder and Spyro, and I'll recount the events that are relevant to what we are going to be planning."

Both of them nodded in recognition, but Sparx only snorted.

"Well a few years ago I and the other Guardians were charged with the invaluable task of safeguarding the eggs and making sure that the Purple Dragon, you Spyro, hatched and didn't come to any harm. However the-"

"However the Dark Armies attacked the Temple, Ignitus sent the purple egg down the Silver River, yadda, yadda, yadda," Sparx said interrupting the earth guardian.

They all shot him looks that could have turned ice to water. This caused the glowing Dragonfly to go silent in an instant.

"Man, you guys need to lighten up," Sparx retorted and then fell silent again.

"Thank you," Terrador remarked gruffly, "now when Ignitus sent you down the Silver River Spyro, I and the other two Guardians did our best to defend the Temple from that murderous race of Apes. But we were taken completely by surprise by their ruthlessness and sheer weight in numbers, and all too soon we were overrun."

Terrador said the last few words through gritted fangs, his face contorted with guilt and anger; they could see that the old warrior blamed himself for the ransacking of the Temple, and the destruction of the eggs that they were supposed to be safeguarding; Spyro was about to offer him some words of comfort when the grassy green veteran's tone ignited through the room once again.

"Well when all four of us came out of our unconscious and battered states, we awoke to find the Ape hordes absent. They had left the temple broken and littered with debris and the broken remains of the eggs; Ignitus explained to us where he had sent the purple egg, and then he informed us that when he returned to the Grotto and found our unconscious forms strewn across the floor and the dark forces obliterating the Temple, he saw the Ape King abducting a dark coloured egg in his sharp clawed hand. He flung himself at the beast, intent on stopping him from stealing it; but the King was too strong and consequently knocked him across the chamber and rendered him unconscious as well."

The Guardian took a few moments to get his breath back, leaving the black Dragoness to speak what was on her mind.

"The egg that the Apes took; it was mine wasn't it?" Cynder quizzed.

Terrador nodded slowly in response; Cynder's head dropped slightly in melancholy when she started to think of her woebegone past and the havoc that she had created, but she instantly perked up when she felt Spyro's sleek, scaly tail wrap around her own; he gave her a comforting wink and a look adorned his features which seemed to say: _don't blame yourself, it wasn't your fault._

"We agreed that the Apes would only get stronger," he continued, "and so we had to try and put a stop to them. We flew as fast as our wings would carry us to Warfang and told the inhabitants of the events that happened that night. The parents of the shattered eggs were devastated at the loss; we apologised profusely to the would-be parents... but I think some of them still blamed us for what happened."

Terrador seemed to recall these unhappy memories in an instant; a look of shear coldness crept onto his face. "...you could see it in their eyes...judging you...making you feel guilty..."

The Earth dragon was then interrupted from his internal analepsis by the glass knob suddenly turning and the door slowly creeping open; they all turned round to see the Ice Guardian poke his ice coloured draconic head around the door.

"Not disturbing any important conversation am I?" Cyril inquired.

"Terrador was just telling us what happened when the Apes first attacked the temple," Cynder informed him.

"Ah yes, a great tale of heroism and bravery," said Cyril egotistically.

"And incredibly long, can we get on with it, a Dragonfly's gotta eat you know," Sparx butted in.

As Cyril walked over to the centre of the room Terrador asked him about Volteer.

"He is asleep at the moment Terrador," Cyril answered as he made himself comfortable on the downy rug, "he used several red and green gems to numb the pain of his injuries and regain elemental energy before he went into slumber. Hopefully when he wakes up all his cuts and bruises will be gone, and he'll be back to his old annoying self."

"You didn't think it wise to bring him here then," Terrador smirked.

"You know as well as I do that he becomes a gabbling wreck every time something interesting or exciting enters his mind; we'd be stopping every time you uttered a single word; I will inform him of our plans when he eventually wakes up," said Cyril as he brandished a rare smile across his sky blue face.

They all chuckled softly for a few fleeting moments before Terrador inevitably turned serious once again.

"Anyway, after our apologies to the parents we then discussed with the population of Warfang about what our next move would be. The majority of them believed that we should stand up and fight for our lands. We also went to other races across the realms and told of the Ape's ruthlessness and asked them to join our cause in vanquishing them.

"Several of them did join our cause," the green Guardian continued, "the Moles had already constructed our grand city, and they didn't want it to descend into rubble; they vowed to stay back and defend it, should it come under sudden attack, while we led the offensive; the Atlawa also agreed to join our cause, however they refused to leave Tall Plains for that has always been their home where their shrine and crops resided.

"Like the Atlawa the Mole's cousins, the Manweersmalls, also joined our cause in doing their best to fend off the Ape invasion on Munitions Forge; the local Cheetah Clan, led at the time by Chief Fico, agreed to actively take part in the War, their warriors constantly stalking and picking off any Ape armies that came within Avalar. That is until Fico died and was replaced by his Son Prowlus; I trust that the three of you met him?"

Spyro, Cynder and Sparx nodded with reluctance, angrily recalling how the cheetah warriors captured and imprisoned them on his direct orders; Prowlus didn't trust Dragons back then or any creature that had anything to do with them.

"Prowlus, unlike his Father, decided that because the Apes were following Malefor, he came to the conclusion that all Dragons were untrustworthy and could instantly turn on them in the flick of a tail, and so he ordered that they pull out of the War and get back to their own lives. However thankfully you three finally made him see sense after all these years."

"Oh, it was nothing," Sparx spoke enthusiastically.

"I am with Terrador," Cyril agreed. "If it weren't for you, the Cheetahs wouldn't have come to Warfang and rejoined the War."

Spyro and Cynder smiled modestly in light of their thanks.

"Well it wasn't just us," Cynder replied.

"That's right. Hunter helped out allot too," Spyro followed.

They all nodded in hearty agreement before Terrador cleared his throat and his innocuous words resonated around the room once again.

"We also sent out requests to other Dragon Clans across the waters."

Surprised looks crept across Spyro's and Cynder's faces, however they refrained from asking questions and let Terrador complete his story.

"Most of them refused to help us at the time; it was because they were either having troubles of their own with the Ape armies or... or because they were too afraid to fight."

Terrador growled out the last words; as a warrior through and through he personally hated cowardice in the face of battle.

"However two of the Clans offered to help us; the Dragons who possessed the element of Water agreed to help out in our hour of need."

"Water?" Spyro and Cynder exclaimed.

"Yes. And what marvellous allies they were," Cyril spoke up as he described them: "The Water Dragons have gills that spanned across their necks, which allows them to breathe and live underwater. When the enemy used ships to get across from island to island, these Water Dragons used their Water element to destroy them from below.

"It was extremely effective until they started using Dreadwings to get about. When the Water Dragons come above the surface, they can voluntarily close up their gills and revert to using just their lungs like normal land animals. However they can only rely on this for a few hours before they start to dry out and develop breathing problems; they are also superb for sending messages overseas."

Terrador grunted in irritation and hastily continued the tale.

"There was also one other clan who helped us; you could say that they are related to Earth Dragons. They use the same type of element as us, but the difference is that their scales are the colours of leaves normally: brown, yellow, green, red etcetera. However what is unique about them is that whatever terrain they're in, their whole body changes colour and blends into the environment, making it almost impossible to detect them.

"Before our forces moved out of Warfang to fight the Apes, we had to decide what to do about the Dragons that were to be left out of the War; we decided that they wouldn't be safe in the Dragon City in case of sudden surprise attacks like the one the Apes inflicted on the Temple. Like the Cheetahs the Camouflage Dragons prefer to live outdoors, in harmony with nature. So, skilled hiders as they were, we asked the Camouflage Dragons to take them into the great forests and valleys of Avalar and to keep them safe, until such a time when it was safe for them to return; I feel that time has almost come."

Whilst Terrador got his breath back after concluding his harrowing story, the young trio digested the information; the Guardians had sent their friends and family away to be safe, and now after years of long waiting they finally had a chance to be reunited with them and return them to Warfang.

"Which is why we are planning a hunting party," Cyril intervened. "However we thought we would wait a few days for you to recover your strength first, that is if you are willing to do it," he said looking over at the two lovers.

"Of course," they both said together.

"Then it's agreed," said Terrador as he got up from his comfortable position on the rug and unfurled his huge dark green wings, "we will give you three days to recuperate; this will also give Volteer a chance to recover. Cyril and I will inform Hunter of our plan and see if any of the other cheetah warriors will aid us; it would help if we had forces on the ground as well as in the air."

They all nodded in agreement with the old warrior; he was glad that they were now so close to returning the exiled Dragons, but he knew that there would be much heartache and tears of sorrow before they turned to joy; they had lost too many good warriors in the fighting.

At that precise moment his giant belly began to rumble in hunger, in need of nourishment. The young ones giggled, happy to know they weren't the only ones whose stomachs needed food.

"I guess I've talked for long enough," he smirked. "Let's go and get some breakfast. We'll need to keep our strength up for the next few days."

All the Dragons slowly got up and stretched out their limbs and wings, easing off some the cramp that had formed within their muscles. Once they had accomplished this they slowly padded out of the room and down towards the Temple Kitchens.

"Great story, I can't wait to tell my friends," Sparx said sarcastically to himself.

The Dragonfly rose up from the bed covers, and buzzed out the open window to tuck into some delicious Butterflies, whistling as he went about his business in the glorious morning rays.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters; all rights go to their respective owners.**

**Chapter 5**

The four Dragons all padded down the corridor and embarked down the stairs to the ground floor; once they had descended the Temple Kitchens lay in front of them, and their claws made a clicking sound on the ground as they entered. They identified several wooden benches and dozens of small stools placed next to them, which were meant for the Guardians and their young students; however it had been some time before all the benches had been occupied. There were also several glass arch windows carved into the wall which allowed the sun through, its rays dancing and shimmering on the stone floor and on the wood of the benches.

They advanced to the far end of the room, and went through a small rounded wooden door. Located within were a store room and a kitchen. They then set about getting out plates which were stacked in one of the cupboards. There was cutlery available, but they all decided to eat with their paws.

"We did use to have kitchen staff to prepare the meals for the Guardians and students. When the Exiles return, we'll have to look in to that again," Cyril remarked.

Terrador then went over to the larder and pulled open the door, delivering a slight cold chill into the air. The Earth Dragon then rapidly pulled out several frozen items and rapidly put them into the sink. Once he'd closed the door, he blew on his cold paws to warm them up.

"The frozen food really does get cold in there. Spyro, if you please."

Spyro went over to the sink with the great green Dragon, while Cynder and Cyril went over to the cupboards and busied themselves with getting non-frozen food out of the cupboards. The Purple Dragon raised himself onto his hind legs, and for balance he gripped the edge of the sink with his forepaws. He raised himself up until his head was right over the sink, looking down at the frozen meat in the silver sheen of the sink.

While Terrador was looking on, Spyro concentrated momentarily and then felt the burning sensation of fire building up from within. He took a breath, opened his maw slightly and orange and yellow embers burst forth and embraced the iced meat.

Steam erupted from the sink as the ice instantly started melting. The steam clouded the young Dragon's vision and stung his face but he continued pouring flames onto the meat, moving his head occasionally so as to make sure he didn't miss any of the ice packages.

"Stop, that will do," Terrador said to him after a few more seconds.

In an instant Spyro had ceased his fire breathing, took his head and forepaws away from the sink and put himself back on all four paws, glad not to have to do that for very long. Terrador wiped away the clouds of steam as best he could with a large lime paw and looked down into the sink at the contents.

The ice had now completely evaporated, and what was now left were several slabs of dark red meat; only a few drops of hot water remained, the vast quantity of ice having already made its way down the plug hole.

"Good," The Earth Guardian said heartily before scooping up the meat and laying it down on a plate.

Unfortunately the food was so hot it burnt Terrador's light green paws. He hissed and turned towards the sink. He turned the cold tap rapidly with his ivory claws, and placed his paws under the gushing cold water. A look of peace came over him as he let out a groan of relief as the water soothed him.

He then turned to the three Dragons who were staring at him with uncertainty.

"I'm not having a lot of luck this morning," Terrador laughed. "You go and take the food out. I'll join you shortly."

They all nodded their draconic heads and Cynder and Cyril ventured out first, carrying a plate each in their mouths. Spyro jumped up and grabbed the plate of meat tightly in his maw.

"Be careful young Dragon. That plate is heavier than it looks."

Spyro nodded and proceeded to follow Cynder and Cyril out of the door, gripping the plate like a Dragoness clutching her young hatchling. They walked at a slow pace so as not to try and spill any of the food. Cynder chose a bench where the sun's rays covered it thoroughly, and carefully set down the plate of food. Cyril and Spyro did likewise.

"I always hate doing that," Cynder complained as she gnashed her jaw in a circular motion, making sure no fangs had been damaged.

"I know. Especially when you have to carry heavy plates; it can wear down your fangs," Spyro agreed boisterously.

"It can be horrible, but you two are young, you'll overcome it," Cyril piped up.

They smiled at him and nodded in agreement.

"Now, I'll go and check on Terrador; he may have told us there's nothing wrong with him, but sometimes he can be as stubborn as...well... a warrior. Help yourselves to the food."

They smiled as they watched the gallant Ice Guardian pad over to the other side of the cafeteria and back through to the kitchen cum store room. They choose two stools that were opposite each other and sat on them; they placed their hind paws on the ground, and relaxed their wings and tails. Both of their stomachs rumbled for nourishment, so they began to tear off strips of the meat and eat them ravenously.

When Cynder placed that first layer of meat into her mouth and chewed it, she savoured the tenderness as it made its way past her tongue. She swallowed it with relish and delight.

"Mmmmm, that's delicious. Quite the cook Spyro," she smiled as she tore off another part of the dark meat.

"Thanks. I was...trying to make up for...yesterday," he replied with his mouth half full of food.

When he was trying to 'defrost' the meat, Terrador had forgotten to tell him not to use a full bout of flame; and by the time he had told Spyro to stop, the quantity of meat in the sink had been completely burnt. On the second attempt however he had managed to cook the meat successfully, however he had a scarlet face afterwards from the steam that had ensued.

"Oh don't worry about that, it wasn't your fault," she said sweetly, kissing him on his mauve forehead.

They continued to eat in silence for a while; they could hear low mutterings from Terrador and Cyril, but they couldn't make out what they were saying. It was when Cynder was helping herself to some delectable ground nuts and berries from the other plates that she suddenly thought back to the conversation that they had had with the Earth Guardian that morning; something suddenly occurred to her.

She turned to her purple scaled lover with both excitement and suspicion in her voice.

"Spyro, Terrador told us that he and the other Guardians were in charge of guarding us and the other eggs. When the raid had happened, they then went to Warfang and told the citizens and parents of those eggs what happened."

"Yes," Spyro said looking at her whilst eating several dark blue berries.

"They told the citizens and _parents_," she said emphasising the last word she said.

Spyro looked at her with a blank and confused look; he couldn't think what she was on about. Cynder then leaned her slim midnight neck and head closer to him so that she only had to whisper.

"The _parents_," she said again.

It took him a couple more moments, but eventually his amethyst eyes turned into orbs of understanding and also of shock. He gulped down the last of the berries in his mouth.

"I see what you're saying Cynder; when Ignitus told me that I was a Dragon and that Flash and Nina weren't my real parents, it never entered my head at the time to ask about my real parents. Do you think they know?"

She placed an ebony paw on his purple one as she thought it through. "I'm not sure. But I think they know more than they actually told us."

"Right, we'll ask them when they come back," Spyro said and Cynder agreed with a nod of her head.

They then sat in silence and waited for the Guardians to return, anxious about what else the veteran Dragons would reveal.

* * *

As the gleam of the morning rays shone down through the shade upon her red scales, Magma silently and slowly pawed through the rustling trees, her scarlet head hugging the ground, her red membraned, orange coloured wings were folded back and she was careful not to make any sudden noises as she elegantly made her way through the wood.

She ignored the hundreds of flies zipping around her and concentrated on the scent her keen nostrils had picked up. She had been stalking her prey for quite a while, and she could sense that she was getting ever closer as the smell began to overwhelm her nasal cavity.

She continued to trudge the dry ground until she came to a clearing; a giant blue lake encapsulated the surrounding woodland, the sun's rays sparkling down upon its sleek surface. However Magma was more interested on the animal that lay in front of her.

It had its back turned to her; its coat and body were of a reddish brown colour, it had six legs which looked sturdy and strong. Its short stumpy tail was slumped and relaxed, its neck was big and bold and it was lowered close to the lake's surface as the animal opened its jaw, and supped from the refreshing contents.

The female Dragoness swiftly took cover behind a tree so that the Arboran didn't spot her; the fact that she had found her prey caused her heart to beat rapidly and the pace of her breath to become quickened. She closed her amber eyes and took deep and silent breaths, in through her nose and out through her mouth, concentrating on the sounds around her: the slow wind rustling the forest branches, the buzzing and cawing of birds and insects and of course the silent lapping of the Arboran's tongue entering the water.

Eventually she calmed herself and poked her head out from behind the wall of bark to catch another glimpse at it: it looked quite plump, so Magma guessed that it had no problem finding food. The Dragoness also took into account how big this Arboran was, and although it was almost twice her size, Magma decided she could handle this by herself.

She went behind the tree once again, took one last long deep breath and started to creep out from her hiding place towards it. The Fire Dragoness took great care to place every paw down with absolute silence, and each time a step closer to her prey. She also kept watch on the Arboran for the slightest glimpse of it becoming alerted.

It was when she was a few paces away from it that she saw the Arboran's neck rising, having satisfied it's thirst. Magma stopped her careful approach, her eyes transfixed on the back of its head and ready to pounce, her heart beating so hard she felt it might burst out of her chest.

However the Arboran didn't seem to notice her. It kept its back to her as it looked out onto the horizon and the gleaming waters, seeming to enjoy the peace and tranquillity of the surroundings. It was then that Magma felt within her a slight degree of sympathy for this animal: yes it was essentially a walking slab of meat, ready to be devoured and eaten. But it was also a majestic creature, standing proud and elegant and at peace with nature.

This close Magma's sharp eyes detected finer details: the strong tendons poking out from the two back legs, its dark hoofs scuffed with dirt, two pendulums swinging from between its legs. However what intrigued her most was the Arboran's neck: it was covered with multicoloured veins which interwove with each other in an intricate pattern.

Magma knew that at the end of the day it was food, and she had gone out that morning with the intention of bringing back an animal that would feed the whole entire camp, and finally proving her worth to the rest of them.

_I'll show those Camouflage Dragons what the exiled citizens of Warfang are capable of_;_ it can't be that hard to kill one,_ she thought to herself.

She took a glance at her tail blade: it was a light hue of red and had multiple prongs sticking out of it. She looked again at the Arboran's veined neck, deciding whether or not to attack it in such a malicious way.

Suddenly a sharp snap came from within the foliage of bushes to their right; The Arboran's long pointed ears and tail pricked up, instantly alerted. It turned its furry head and long snout in the direction of the sound.

Before it had a chance to see her, Magma acted instinctively and in one great leap swept past over the main body of the dark red beast and as soon as she was level with it swung her tail blade down upon its protruding neck, intent on a clean kill.

However as the axe was about to come down, the Arboran saw the Dragoness out of the corner of its eye; in surprise it tried to turn away and avoid it. The blade cut deeply into its neck, and in response the Arboran gave a great roar and kicked out one of its front legs at its attacker.

Magma hadn't expected this and the Arboran's long limb connected firmly with her stomach in mid air, causing her to land heavily on the ground and double over, clutching her yellow underbelly and writhing in agony. Thankfully for her, the Arboran had no longer control of its senses after having its neck half cleaved open. Blood sprayed out from the gash and covered the ground like a red blanket as it swayed on its six legs; its groans of pain rebounded among the trees and echoed through the forest. It eventually collapsed in a heap, breathing rapidly, trying to draw in air. However it's wind pipe had been sliced through, and the dying creature could no longer draw breath. It dropped its head into the lake, its neck no longer able to support it properly. In its final death throes it tried to raise its wet furry head, air bubbles coming out from its nose and mouth and rising to the surface.

As both Magma and the Arboran continued to writhe in pain, the Dragoness turned to stare at the sight of the dying beast; she attempted to get up and help the wounded animal, not wishing for it to drown in its final moments. But pain instantly flared up when she tried to move, and cringing she lay back down, attempting to ease the pain a bit.

Then instantly the air bubbles stopped, and the Arboran's body went limp and still; blood continued to gush out of the wound, and stained the ground. Tears from her amber eyes rolled down her cheeks, a combination of pain and misery; she groaned once again, and tried to call out for help, but from her maw she could only utter a small whimper.

She looked at her wings, as her heart hammered at her chest, and spread them wide; she flapped them a few times, and this caused her body to rise slightly off the ground without much effort. Concise, she stopped flapping her wings, letting them go limp once again.

_I'll rest here a while, and let my body heal up. I'll then fly back to camp,_ she thought through the pain.

She wanted to take her eyes off the gigantic carcass, but she couldn't; the deep wound showed her more than she'd care to see: red and pink flesh were revealed and flowing with blood, with parts of bone interwoven. She started to shake uncontrollably, and instantly more tears started to fall from her glowing amber eyes. It had all happened so fast she had barely time to think.

"I...I didn't think death could be so...so...graphic," she sobbed.

She curled herself up in agony; she moved her tail blade in front of her face, masking the giant carcass before her, with blood from the Arboran still sticking to the tips. She also wrapped her wings around her pained body and continued to groan and shake, wishing it was all just a bad dream.

Not long after, several Camouflage Dragons out hunting found the young Fire Dragoness in the clearing, still curled up into a ball. They had heard the roar of the Arboran, and swiftly rushed in the general direction of the sound as quickly as they could. Then they glimpsed the carcass of the Arboran, and they all surmised what must have happened. The blood from the dead creature now flowed out rapidly and found its way into the lake, turning it from a majestic blue to a dark blood red and staining the gorgeous and natural landscape.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters; all rights go to their respective owners.**

**Chapter 6**

Cyril and Terrador had placed themselves opposite the two young Dragons, and had dually tucked into their meals. Terrador's forepaws were stained red with burns; however he gritted his teeth against the pain.

"Terrador, are you sure you're alright?" Cynder asked, concerned.

"Ha, ha, fine Cynder thank you. I've endured allot worse," Terrador replied, looking at his scorched paws, seeming to admire them.

Cynder nodded, however she kept glancing back at his burns with a worried look in her eyes.

They continued to eat their fill as the sun cast its gaze down upon them through the glass of the window; nothing could be heard but the low pulsing noises of the creatures that inhabited the surrounding area, and of course their draconic fangs crunching, munching and crushing the food in their mouths.

"This meat is really tough," Cynder expressed having swallowed another chunk of it with difficulty.

"I know. Arboran meat always is," Cyril responded.

"But it fills you up nicely, and is good for growing Dragons," Terrador said, smiling at Spyro and Cynder.

Having finished his plate off, Spyro ground down the rest of the food in his mouth and swallowed with relish. He then looked across at Cynder, her mouth full of food. Her eyes caught his: They were filled with the same unease and curiosity as his.

Giving a small nod, he turned his purple head to face his elders; they were still chewing on their food, unaware of the stares they were getting from their young friends.

"Terrador, Cyril, can we ask you something?"

"Of course, dear boy," Cyril said, while Terrador simply nodded with his mouth full.

The purple Dragon turned to his dark lover once again; she had now eaten her fill, and her ebony face was now turned from his mauve features to the aged Guardians.

"Could you tell us…who are parents were?" Spyro said, almost seeming to force the words out.

The Ice and Earth Dragons stopped chewing and gulped down their food in response.

"Your...parents?" Cyril replied, an alarmed expression spreading across his face.

"Yes. Did you know them?" Spyro said, both he and Cynder eagerly excited.

Several tense moments passed by as Terrador and Cyril looked at each other with uncertainty; Terradors wings and shoulders sagged as he put a saw paw up to his lime green maw.

"I knew that we had forgotten to tell you something!" Terrador boomed.

"It's okay, Terrador. Don't blame yourself," Cynder assured him.

"Forgive us for not telling you two about your parents, we…we are really are getting old," Cyril huffed.

"So you did know them?" Spyro perked up.

"We knew your parents Spyro," Cyril assured him.

"But not mine?" Cynder asked with sadness and acceptance hanging in her voice.

"We are sorry," Terrador spoke compassionately.

"So where did Cynder come from?" Spyro quizzed.

"We are unable to tell you; a wandering Dragon just found your egg in a copse of trees that surrounded Warfang one day. By the looks of it, your egg had been there for several days without comfort or warmth. It was lucky that you were found; if you'd been left there for much longer, I dread to think what had happened," Cyril shuddered.

"And I was taken to the Temple?" Cynder guessed.

"Yes; the citizens of Warfang decided to call on us to offer our advice; when it was obvious that no one wanted to raise you, we took you with us back to the Temple. Our aim was to take you in and raise you when you hatched," Terrador spoke.

"Did anyone know, or even guess where I originally came from?"

"We are not sure," continued the giant green Guardian. "We believe that, because your egg wasn't a colour of any Dragon that lived around here, we believed that one of your parents could belong to a clan of black Dragons that lived far to the North of here."

"Great! Could you show me exactly where on one of the maps?"

Cyril shook his blue icy head. "They are a moving clan Cynder, they have no fixed position. They were last seen to the North of Avalar, but that was years ago; they would have moved on by now."

Cynder's smile disappeared, her shoulders and head slowly drooped and she fell silent once again; was she ever going to find out who she really was?

Spyro comforted her by placing a paw on her midnight scaled shoulder, and gave her moist cheek a few tender licks.

"Thanks Spyro," she replied with a forced smile before kissing him on his maw and taking her dark paw in his.

"What about my parents," Spyro said, glancing back to the Guardians.

"Ahhh yes, now that we do know," nodded Cyril, clearing his throat before carrying on.

"Your Father was called Blaze, and your Mother was called Serene; they grew up at the Temple with me, Terrador, Volteer and Ignitus when we were being educated. I think that your mother was drawn to your father's boldness and bravery, as he always gave his all in the training arena."

"Aye and he also had charm. I can't think of anyone who he didn't get on with at the Temple; as you can imagine it wasn't long before he and you mother soon became mates; once they had graduated, they left and acquired some accommodation in Warfang," Terrador explained.

"Mmmm," Cyril murmured, "and it wasn't long before your mum was pregnant with you Spyro; once we had taken over as Guardians, we often went to visit many of our friends and relatives, including Blaze and Serene. They often had petty arguments about which type of Dragon you would be. Blaze said that you would be a bold, strong Fire Dragon, while Serene quietly hinting you would be a calm, elegant Dragon of Ice.

"That argument was after the one where they pondered whether you would be a boy or a girl Spyro? They finally agreed that you would be a girl if you wanted to know," Terrador chuckled.

"Yes, thank you Terrador," Spyro blushed and causing Cynder to silently giggle out of the corner of his eye.

"So you can imagine their astonishment when it was a purple egg that Serene gave birth too. Both their families couldn't believe it either, and eagerly spread the news. Soon everybody in the city knew that soon a legendary Dragon would be born."

"Or Dragoness?" Cynder laughed.

The elderly Guardians silently chuckled along with the jet black Dragoness, and this caused Spyro to blush even more with embarrassment.

"I'm only joking Spyro," Cynder said sweetly, giving him a light kiss on his tender purple lips.

"If you say so Cynder," Spyro smiled.

"Anyway, I'm afraid to say this excitement was short lived," the ice blue Guardian continued. "Soon after we moved the Dragon eggs to the Temple as we thought that that would be the safest place to keep them; we were aware of the Apes as our enemies at the time thanks to a few early attacks in other areas of the realms, but we were caught off guard and... well you know the rest."

"Do you feel that my parents blamed you?" Spyro asked them.

"I'm sure they didn't," Cyril told him.

"Although everyone was upset at the loss of the eggs, Blaze and Serene did not blame us for what happened," Terrador added.

"So then... what happened to them? Did they...die?" Spyro asked with nervous tension.

Sadness seemed to infest him when Terrador continued the conversation. "I am afraid that the whereabouts of your parents, like Cynder's, is also an enigma; one of the first moves the Apes made on this part of the realms was an attack on Dante's Freezer. Now Serene, as an Ice Dragon, had personal relations living there and they were refusing to leave; they wanted to defend their territory.

"Once the news was heard Serene and Blaze wasted no time in going to the aid of the Ice Dragons in that sector; all of Flame's family agreed to help their relations, and a few other individuals in the city agreed to help. They took off in the late afternoon and headed towards Dante's Freezer... and that was the last time I saw them."

As Terrador slowly mumbled out those last words, a cold depressing feeling hit the Purple Dragon; when he had been on Dante's Freezer, he had found no trace of any Dragons there; just discarded weaponry, battered and destroyed battlements, a desolate place of horror and hurt.

"It hurts doesn't it," Cynder said comfortingly, nuzzling him with her maw.

"Don't let it get you down Spyro, they died fighting, with honour," Cyril piped up.

"Exactly; they were honest and hard fighting Dragons; for me it was a pleasure to have known them," Terrador marvelled.

"Thank you guys, it's good to know I still have a family," said Spyro happily.

Cynder gave him a playful lick on the cheek which caused him to smile and return the favour.

"And besides young dragons, there may be hope yet; I mean there's nothing stopping you going out and looking for signs of your parent's whereabouts," Cyril expressed.

They both turned to the Ice Dragon. "But what about you-" Spyro started to say.

"Don't think that you have to stay and look after us just because we are in our dotage! We can look after ourselves!" Terrador boomed.

Spyro turned to his slim and elegant mate with relish. "What do you think Cynder?"

"It's a great idea, although I think it would be good to see the exiled Dragons home first."

"Very well," Spyro agreed.

"I second that; I'm sure they will be ecstatic to see the young heroes who ended the war," Cyril commented.

"Right, well the quicker we are about it the better; let's go and see Hunter and get that hunting party together; see if we can find a few enemies and pick them off," Terrador said heartily.

And with that they all got up and raced out of the Temple Kitchens to Hunter's village deep in the forests of Avalar, with Terrador limping slightly from his wounds and leaving behind the leftovers to be eaten up by the rays of the shimmering sun.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters; all rights go to their respective owners.**

**Chapter 7**

The giant ball of weeping light continued to shine down onto the lush vegetation of the forest, and encapsulated the camp of Dragons that were of this moment in a clearing, their temporary wooden homes lashed together with strands of vine. Magma laid in her hut that she had erected some time ago, the soft grass providing a comfortable resort for her bruised underbelly.

She had laid there for most of the day, shaking and sniffling; not because she was cold but because she was still distraught over what had happened that morning; the camouflage cohort that had came across her in the clearing had brought her back to the camp with the dead Arboran in tow; a small crowd had congregated when they saw Magma being carried on the back of one of the camouflage Dragons, tearful and sobbing.

The group had placed Magma in her hut, and had swiftly dispersed the crowd, saying that they should leave her alone to rest up despite familiar cries from her friends asking if she was okay. Her abdominal muscles had taken the worst of the Arboran's assault, and although she had stopped crying the rims of her eyes were now even redder than her scales, and every time she moved she felt as if her stomach were on fire.

"Why did I think I could hunt?" she asked herself.

"Because you're a silly girl, that's why," said a voice from behind her.

Magma slowly and painfully craned her neck round as she realised who it was; Her scarlet eyes picked out a Dragon with flowing green and yellow scales around his midriff, and a few shimmering red scales placed around his paws, down his tail and one across his eye.

"If you've just come here to make fun Tuller-"

"I haven't, I haven't," he pleaded as he raised a forepaw, "I just came to check that you were okay."

"I'm fine," Magma snorted.

"Why did you think you could tackle a full size Arboran by yourself?"

"Because I was tired of the Camouflage Dragons saying that the Warfang Dragons couldn't hunt!" she exclaimed.

Tuller slowly padded towards her and lay down beside her; his body heat was a comforting embrace to her aching guts. He placed a forepaw around her body.

"You mustn't let them get to you Mag; they're only trying to make you feel jealous; when each camouflage Dragon turns into a hatchling we get taken out into the wild to hunt; we're a tribe, and we all have to look out for it."

"But I just feel so useless; the other Dragons might feel comfortable with letting the tribe hunt for our food, but I'm not. I want to help hunt, and learn how to hunt properly."

Tuller paused, and moved his jaw in a circular motion, thinking what to do. Then his muddy coloured brown eyes lit up.

"Listen Mag," he whispered softly, "Would you like to go hunting with me sometime?"

"Really?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Won't some of the Camouflage Dragons be angry?"

Tuller slowly looked away from her, and turned his head to the opening of Magma's hut; most of the tribe had begun tearing up the carcass of the Arboran: red liquid continued to poor out more heavily with every crack, snap and crunch of the body. Two of it's six legs had already been ripped off, and the squidgy pink meat was being swiftly torn away to soothe the Camouflage Dragons' hunger.

The Warfang Dragons however were gathering various bits of wood in their maws and putting them in a heap. A Fire Dragon came along and let out a brief burst of flame, the wood igniting in response. The rest of the Warfang Dragons skipped across to the Arboran carcass, and tried to tear chunks of the animal away from the greed of the Camouflage Dragons.

"I don't know Mag," he said as he continued to stare out of her hut. "Even though we have taken your clan under our wing, my tribe don't seem to mingle as much as they should with the other Dragons; most of them see you and your friends as weak and pompous, and not fit to hunt with us."

"That's ridiculous! How dare they say- ahhh!" Magma had tried to get up, but she only managed to rise a few inches before her midriff exploded with pain. She gritted her teeth against it as she slowly connected her stomach with the comforting moist grass.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," she said hotly.

"Look, I'll go and get you something to eat, that should make you feel better," the young Camouflage Dragon exclaimed.

"Tuller...please don't get me any Arboran meat."

"Sure," he smiled, thinking that she would say that. "Be right back."

She laid her head and got into a position that was quite relaxed, and watched Tuller padding off past the clans of gut-hungry Dragons. Magma had known the Tuller for a long time now; they had first met when they were both hatchlings and the Warfang Dragons had just settled in with the Camouflage Dragons; she and some of the other young Dragons from Warfang were play fighting in the woods when Tuller leapt out from some nearby shrubs, and let out a loud moaning growl. The hatchlings all screamed and ran back to the safety of the camp, except for Magma.

"Who are you?" she squeaked, defensively lowering her haunches and facing Tuller head on, standing her ground against him even though he was bigger.

"My name's Tuller," said the multicoloured scaled Dragon as he studied the fire Dragoness.

"You're brave, not running away; and who taught you to lower your haunches, and face your attacker?"

"My Daddy; he's a very powerful Dragon."

"Is he," said Tuller confidently.

"Yes, he...couldn't come with us," she said sadly, and suddenly she started to cry.

Tuller quickly went over to Magma, and nuzzled the side of her face, comforting her.

"He...he had to stay and...and fight; I couldn't stay because I...I was too young," she said as tears crept out of her young, sparkly eyes.

"That's awful", Tuller whispered.

"And my Mu...Mummy stayed a...and fought as well...I only have...my Aunt and C...Cousin for f...family."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he whispered again as he continued to nuzzle her. "Listen, why don't we play hide and seek?"

He smiled at her as she looked up at him with tears continuing to flood her face. "It'll take your mind off things, and hopefully dry those beautiful eyes of yours," he said as she choked back a laugh.

"Thanks," Magma said gratefully as she wiped tears from her eyes.

"That's better; now what do they call you?"

"Magma."

"Good to meet you Magma; now, you count first and I'll hide?"

A smile swept across her face as she recounted the memory. Playing hide and seek against a Camouflage Dragon, as she found out, was unbelievably difficult; she spent nearly an hour seeking in the forest: flying up to the tops of trees, glancing through lush vegetation, even turning up smaller sized rocks.

Eventually she plonked herself on the ground, sulking and tired after looking for so long.

"It's too hard," she huffed to herself.

"Over here," a voice sniggered.

She glanced over to her left where the voice emanated from: it had come from a few big triangular leaves of green and yellow. Slowly Tuller emerged from the bush, his scales resembling the exact colours of the plants that grew there.

"How did you do that?" she asked, astonished.

A hearty chuckle escaped him. "We Camouflage Dragons can change our scales to fit any environment; the scales that I have now are what I was born with, but I can change every one of them."

From that day on, Magma was careful when any Camouflage Dragon asked to play hide and seek with her; from then on, Tuller had been her closest friend amongst the natives, although he didn't seem to get on as well with any of the other Dragons; Magma seemed the only one he ever really talked to.

With a sigh, she wondered how the war was going; she closed her eyes and thought of her parents the last time she saw them, and pictured them perfectly in her head: two Dragons of great power and eternal love for each other and their daughter. Her Father was slightly bigger than her Mother; bright red scales, faces that were hard but pleasing smiles adorned their lips nonetheless.

Her Mother lent down, kissed her on the cheek and gave her a very strong hug; she told her baby girl how much she loved her, and that she should be good for her Aunt. She promised that she would, and all too soon her Mother let her go. Her hulking Father stepped forward and nuzzled her face against his. He whispered to her to never give up hope, and that she should be strong no matter what happens. Her little frame started to shake with fear and dread and her eyes became very moist as the little red Dragoness promised that she would. Her Father retracted his neck and they both looked down at her; they both winked in her direction, making her giggle.

_Let them be alive_, she thought to herself.


End file.
